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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29123631">lost connection</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sybilluv/pseuds/sybilluv'>sybilluv</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Divergent, Character Death, F/M, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Sad Ending, Unrequited Love</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 11:47:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,922</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29123631</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sybilluv/pseuds/sybilluv</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Johnny.” </p><p>He jumps, turns to find Alt, red and zeroes and ones looking down at him. “Where’s V?”</p><p>Alt’s code spins, undulates. “You ask a question you already know the answer to. If she is absent here, then she is nowhere. Eradicated by the biochip.” </p><p>“No.” Johnny starts moving again, searching for V. “No, no. She’s gotta be in here somewhere. It can’t be that simple, that she’s just—”</p><p>“I am afraid you do not understand.” He freezes, feels his hands clench but there’s no pain. “The imminent destruction of V’s engram was just that— imminent. She lived on borrowed time, and now that time is up. You deny what is so blatantly obvious, Johnny Silverhand.” Alt gestures to the cyberspace, empty aside from the two of them, and Johnny almost crumbles to his knees. </p><p>OR</p><p>When V collapses in front of Panam, the one who wakes up in control is Johnny. Sometimes, we can't see things through to the end.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Johnny Silverhand &amp; Female V, Johnny Silverhand &amp; V, Johnny Silverhand/Female V</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>72</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I wanted to write angst involving Johnny because I love his character, and flesh out his relationship with V, to a degree. Panam makes a guest appearance because I love her with my whole heart, but she's not too important in this one. I'm also unsure if I'll continue this, but if people want more then I'll try my best to continue!</p><p>As always, any and all mistakes are my own, and I hope you enjoy reading!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s never a joyous occasion when Johnny’s thrown to the wheel, hands glued to it like it’s his body, like he’s always belonged, always in control over V. It’s rare, usually when V’s alone or surrounded by people that can’t tell the difference or don’t care. They leave him be to wipe the blood from his mouth, try to remember the objective of what she was doing before Johnny knocked her out. Not his choice to do so, but V can’t always keep the relic malfunctions at bay, so she puts her trust in Johnny and he does as he’s told.</p><p>
  <em> “Play nice, don’t hurt anyone that doesn’t need hurting, please try not to make any scenes, and please don’t call Panam and say something stupid because you know how I feel about her. Don’t give me that look, Johnny. You like her, too.” </em>
</p><p>He’ll never admit to it aloud, but that’s unnecessary. Because V knows him, and he knows V. It’s beneficial sometimes. Other times, it’s a pain in the ass to feel how V’s heart wrenches or skips a beat when Panam’s near, all lovey-dovey and doe-eyed without any heat in her gut, no throbbing between her legs.</p><p>‘Cause V isn’t like that. Doesn’t lust, never felt that way for anyone, and her memories have proved that. It was pointless for her to have anything down there, since she only uses it to piss. Made Johnny angry, at first. When he first gained control, he wanted to spite V, find someone and do everything she’d never even considered actually doing.</p><p>But something held him back, whether it be their shared conscious or Johnny’s… <em> feelings. </em> Sappy as it is, he cares about V to an extent. Used to not, used to wish she was dead in a ditch or dead in her own apartment, but now’s different. Now’s something he’s not used to. So he avoided sex. Still went fucking wild, though, because it was to convince Rogue that it was Johnny and not V just going cyberpsycho or something.</p><p>Still, the situation he’s in right now is something he would’ve preferred never experiencing. His surroundings glitch, blues and reds and purples turning everything into a colorful headache for his optics. Johnny groans, pushes himself up. Blood coats his tongue and it’s so strong that he coughs, gags, spatters blood on his hands and his pants. It’s an annoyance, the aftereffects of a malfunction. They don’t bother him nearly as much as they do V, because this is supposed to be his body. V is an intruder, and Johnny’s the owner.</p><p>What a crock of bullshit that is. </p><p>The glitch continues for longer than he likes, so Johnny lifts a hand and knocks at the relic in its slot once, twice, three times and things go black before his optics come back to life, rebooted and restarted. Normal. “Preem.” His voice over V’s, both throaty and low, and things are fine enough. Could be better if it was actually his body and not V’s that he was slowly killing, taking control of. </p><p>Now that the shitshow’s over, Johnny looks at his surroundings. Right. The Aldecaldo camp, the Basilisk. All of the memories return to him, because the stupid delays adhere to V’s moments in control, too. Nothing wrong with her in control, he thinks. It’s normal. He’s the stranger, contrary to the beliefs of V’s brain. </p><p>But this wasn’t where V was before the malfunction. She was drinking— <em> lemonade </em> instead of beer, because she doesn’t drink. Johnny shivers, because he could never last like that. It’s just more evidence supporting how insanely different V is from Johnny, and everyone else in Night City. Hell, in the United States. Maybe even the world.</p><p>She’s special, but not in a bad way. Never in a bad way.</p><p>He’s in someone’s tent, in a cot. Would’ve expected a ripper to try and figure out what caused the attack, but maybe this is a blessing in disguise. V hasn’t mentioned much about her predicament to anyone other than Judy, and she’s long gone from the city. In Oregon, living happy and free as a bird. V’s envious of her, though she never feeds into that feeling. Doesn’t actually know it’s envy, thinks that she just misses Judy.</p><p>That’s mixed in there, too, but V wishes she could leave the city. By herself, maybe, but preferably with the Aldecaldos. There’s nothing left for her in the city but broken dreams and memories of the dead, and Judy looks happy now that she’s out. V wants that, too.</p><p>But Johnny’s holding her back. The <em> relic </em>is holding her back. She likes Johnny well enough, knows that it’s not his fault, that he would stop everything, would off himself if it meant that V could get her life back from him. But it’s never that easy.</p><p>Johnny sighs, then pauses. <em> Where’s Panam? </em> They were together, so where did she go? Even more important, how long as V been unconscious? Johnny checks V's phone, smiles when he sees the lock screen— she’d edited Johnny into a photo with her, the gonk— but it quickly fades when he sees the date.</p><p>It’s been two days. Two days, and neither of them were able to wake up. Johnny feels his heart drop, and his blood freezes. He shoves himself off of the mattress, doesn’t care that he’s not wearing shoes, ignores how the sand tingles as he walks on it. He’s on a mission, and the only thing that matters is that he can find V’s med’s, the blockers. Prays that they work and V comes back, because this is <em> not </em> something Johnny wants to deal with.</p><p>If they don’t work, then that means that V’s gone. That was the last straw, and— and everything they’ve accomplished up to this point is all meaningless. Another life lost, weighing heavier than the rest on Johnny’s consciousness. </p><p>Because V has <em> never </em> killed anyone through her life as a solo. That’s what she’s known for, admired for. A netrunner who uses daemons that aren’t life-threatening, and she’s a force to be reckoned with in hand-to-hand combat. She’s a genius in a firefight, uses her surroundings to her advantage, and she’s never once caved and murdered, no matter the situation. No matter if they <em> deserve </em> to die.</p><p>Another way that she’s so, <em> so </em> different from anyone Johnny’s ever met.</p><p>He storms through the camp, feels how V’s long, silver hair flows behind him and tickles his back. He’s only in a bra and pants and that’s fine, he doesn’t care because neither would V. She knows she’s drop-dead gorgeous, not that she flaunts it. But she knows. </p><p><em> Knew, </em> a dark part of Johnny’s mind whispers, but he shoves it far away, because V <em> has </em> to still be in here somewhere. Her necklace is heavy around his neck, cold and a reminder that <em> he </em> did this, and it’s all so fucked up that he could just scream. Or write a song about it.</p><p>Johnny sees a flash of brown hair and the green one piece and he turns and walks toward her, places a hand on her shoulder. Panam turns and jumps, eyes full of worry which isn’t for Johnny, and it makes him feel sick. “V! You’re awake, it’s— are you okay? Do you need anything?”</p><p>“Not V.” He says it gruffly, doesn’t care to explain, not right now. “Where’re her things? Has a bag, green, Militech-issued, stole it from a scavver ‘cause it’s in good shape. Keeps it in her car. Where’s it at?” </p><p>Confusion replaces concern, and Johnny <em> doesn’t </em> have time for this. “Listen, I’ll explain after I take V’s meds, but right now we can’t waste time twiddling our dicks just ‘cause you’re worried ‘bout your choomba. I won’t tell you she’s fine ‘cause I ain’t about to lie through my teeth like that. So tell me where her car is, or where the bag's at if you moved it.”</p><p>“Follow me, then,” Panam says, and it’s colder than how she normally talks to V. Johnny’s relieved, because he doesn’t want to be treated the same. She’s kind to the person who <em> actually </em> owns this body, and he’s not that person. “Now that we’re walking, <em> talk. </em>What have you done with V?”</p><p>Johnny groans, runs a hand over his face. “Fuck’s sake, I haven’t done <em> shit. </em> Not on purpose. She’s got a problem and I’m it, and now I don’t want t’ be a fuckin’ issue to her. Don’t have a choice, so I’m stuck in her brain, takin’ things apart so her body thinks that it’s mine. All ‘cause of a stupid chip in her skull,” he barks, pointing at the biochip. “When you were havin’ trouble connectin’ her to the turret in your Thorn, I was why. When she asked you to help her down that Kang Tao transport, I was why. When she passed out in front of you two days ago, <em> I was why.” </em></p><p>They’re standing in front of V’s Javelina and Johnny opens the trunk. “She has meds that keep me sleepin’, but her body’s learnin’,” he explains further as he opens V’s bag, searches through it for the bottle of blockers. “Don’t like me blocked off, so they’re startin’ to bypass whatever’s in these pills.” Johnny lifts the bottle as soon as he finds it, pops it open and takes two. “If this doesn’t work, then I’ll have to phone a friend. Dive into cyberspace, try to find whatever remains of V’s engram. You’ve got someone here that can do that, right?”</p><p>Panam lifts a hand up for Johnny to pause, and she takes the brief moment to breathe, massage her temples. “While I’m slowly beginning to comprehend your terrible explanations, you have <em>not</em> enlightened me on a vital piece of information: If you’re not V, then who are you?”</p><p>“Johnny Silverhand,” he answers, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “When I bombed ‘Saka HQ, I didn’t escape. Got captured, and they experimented on me. Put my engram, my <em> soul </em> into a biochip. Been on ice for fifty years ‘fore V came to Konpeki Plaza for a gig. Didn’t go as planned, and t’ keep me functional, she had t’ slot me into her skull. Sacrificed her best choom, too many people. Technically she died, but I brought her back to life. Frankenstein’s monster, but she’s already died twice after that. Three times, now,” he realizes. “When she malfunctioned on Judy, she didn’t wake up for a day. This one’s worse, ‘cause I wasn’t the one who woke up with control.”</p><p>The blockers usually take effect by now. Johnny looks at the bottle, reads the directions. <em> Two every four to six hours. </em>He curses under his breath, throws the bottle back into V’s bag. “Alright, break over. Take me to whoever has an ice bath ready.”</p><p>Panam doesn’t ask questions, and she simply takes him to Dakota. It takes a little convincing, but she lets Johnny use her setup. He hops into the ice bath without even flinching, lets whoever shove cables into his ports, and he’s off into cyberspace.</p><p>It’s familiar but always unsettling. The binary that makes up one of the scenes of Johnny’s last memories when he was alive, but this is no time to reminisce. No time to think about what happened, how much he regrets so many things from when he still had his own body, how he wished he could’ve saved Alt, could’ve lived and apologized to Kerry for being a dick, ask Rogue to go to that drive-in with him.</p><p>“Alt!” He calls, and it’s actually his voice. Not V’s. “V! Val, where the fuck are you?!”</p><p>He turns, walks up the stairs, and he’s starting to feel frantic, <em> desperate. </em> “Shit, shit, <em> shit,” </em> he turns a corner, tries to think, believing that if he imagines hard enough, he’ll just summon V into existence. His eyes are screwed shut, repeating V’s name, once, twice, thrice.</p><p>Nothing. It’s silent. Dead quiet.</p><p>“Johnny.” </p><p>He jumps, turns to find Alt, red and zeroes and ones looking down at him. “Where’s V?”</p><p>Alt’s code spins, undulates. “You ask a question you already know the answer to. If she is absent here, then she is nowhere. Eradicated by the biochip. But this does not mean we cannot continue with the original plan.” </p><p>“No.” Johnny starts moving again, searching for V. “No, no. She’s gotta be in here somewhere. It can’t be that simple, that she’s just—”</p><p>“I am afraid you do not understand.” He freezes, feels his hands clench but there’s no pain. “The imminent destruction of V’s engram was just that— imminent. She lived on borrowed time, and now that time is up. You deny what is so blatantly obvious, Johnny Silverhand.” Alt gestures to the cyberspace, empty aside from the two of them, and Johnny almost crumbles to his knees. "The V that you know is gone."</p><p>“Still do,” Johnny corrects, rests his arms on the railing so he doesn’t collapse. “Always will. She’s a good kid. Ain’t about to forget everything she’s done for me, Alt. Made an impact.”</p><p>Alt is silent for a moment. Then, “I see. Comparing the memories Alt Cunningham has of you compared to your interactions with V shows an obvious difference. When you could not save Alt, you were overtaken by feelings of rage, not sadness. You wished to enact revenge, but now—”</p><p>“Now I wish I’d stayed dead,” Johnny says, and it hurts. “Wish V’d never went on that heist, wish I coulda just had Adam Smasher blow me to smithereens on the roof of ‘Saka HQ.” He covers his face with his hands, but he still sees through them. Still sees Alt.</p><p>“There is no purpose in wishing change that will never come to fruition, Johnny Silverhand. V is gone, but this does not mean we cease all plans. Finding the location of Mikoshi is still your top priority. Once it is destroyed, you may do as you please.” Alt glitches, and the cyberspace around Johnny does the same. “When you next return, we will discuss our plans further.”</p><p>With that, the code stretches, morphs and it hurts Johnny’s eyes. He closes them, then he feels the ice pricking his skin, so cold, so <em> cold— </em></p><p>He shoves himself up, yanks the cable out of his neck. “Stupid <em> fucking </em>relic,” he growls, jumps out of the tub, and sand sticks to his feet. He’s dripping wet but he doesn’t care, nothing matters anymore. Storms to V’s car, wants to do something but it’s wrong, it’s all <em> wrong. </em> </p><p>V is dead.</p><p><em> “SHIT!” </em> Johnny screams, shoves people out of the way, doesn’t care how they look at him, ignores their shouts and pushes the hand on his shoulder away. His face is wet but it’s not from the fucking ice bath, and he just wants to break down right then and there, but it’s so suffocating being surrounded by people, and he just wants to go on a drive and never look back. </p><p>Fuck what Alt wants, fuck the plan, fuck Mikoshi, fuck Arasaka, fuck <em> everything. </em></p><p>Fuck Johnny Silverhand, because this is <em>his</em> fault.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Johnny doesn't know what to do when he realizes that V is gone for real. Never coming back, and that hurts him for reasons he never wants to admit aloud. Now, he wishes he could go back in time and change how things were. Maybe it wouldn't change the end goal, but at least he could regret one less thing.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>You wanted more angst, so I churned this one out as fast as I could! As always, any and all mistakes are my own, and please enjoy reading!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Seventeen missed calls. Fifty-five unopened text messages. Johnny’s just considering turning off V’s phone and throwing it into the sand.</p><p>He’s in the middle of nowhere. In the Badlands, sure, but that doesn’t mean shit. Nothing has meaning, not the passage of time because Johnny isn't in any real danger. He has no hourglass that haunts him every second of the day, no relic to give him headaches. That was all V. Even when she was dying and had barely any hope to get her body back, she still kept moving.</p><p>And now Johnny is stagnant in her stead, watching the stars overhead while V’s Javelina is a few feet away, still has some gas but it looks fuckin' pathetic, all battered and muddy. Just like he does. But he feels nothing, an empty void where V used to be, taking up so much space in the last few weeks. Changing Johnny for the better, and now he has to try and figure out what the fuck he wants to do now that she’s gone.</p><p>It still hasn’t really caught up to him, the reality of this situation. V was so hellbent on making it through to the end, and that meant helping Johnny with his problems along the way. Letting him take over when it came to Rogue, to Kerry, to <em> Samurai. </em> </p><p>Couldn’t believe the gonk managed to round everyone up for one last gig. Almost everyone, but it didn’t matter. It still felt real, still got to play on his guitar one last time. Made things okay, for the most part. Johnny crossed one regret off of his long list, and things seemed to be looking up.</p><p>Not anymore. With V gone and Alt still wanting Johnny to continue with their plan, all because she wants to destroy Mikoshi, Johnny’s lost. Conflicted. At the beginning, it would've been easy. He didn’t know V, didn’t care to know her. Didn’t want to know her, either, because a part of him knew it’d make things harder.</p><p>But he didn’t even get to say goodbye. Didn’t even get to see her one last time before the gig was up. V’s existence was a ticking time bomb, but it got snuffed out. She didn’t go out with a bang. She left in a fucking whisper.</p><p>Johnny punches the ground again, the blood on his knuckles dried and crusted with sand, because he’s been doing this for the past hour. Or maybe two, probably three. He hasn’t been paying attention much.</p><p>What’s there to pay attention to, anyway? Shit, he’s got all the time in the world, now. All he had to do was sacrifice his best fucking friend. The closest person, the only one Johnny’s ever opened up to.</p><p>The only person Johnny’s ever shed tears over. He didn’t cry when Alt died, just as the cyberspace version of her said. He’d been angry, filled with rage and hatred because he couldn’t be the hero he wanted. Couldn’t save the damsel in distress, though he knew damn well that Alt could take care of herself. Maybe there was grief but it was drowned so far by everything else. Did he ever grieve, or did he just keep moving? </p><p>Because all along, it was about Johnny’s capabilities, what he could accomplish, what <em> he </em> wanted. </p><p>Rogue didn’t matter, Kerry didn’t matter. Johnny was selfish, and he wishes he could’ve shown that he cared more about them, About Alt, because they <em> did </em> matter. Johnny was just too stubborn to admit it, and now he wishes he was better. All because of V.</p><p>What a sad arc of his life this is. So many things are different now, all because two solos wanted to do a big heist on one of the biggest megacorporations, and now everyone involved in that mission is dead. Except for Judy, maybe, but she wasn’t exactly risking much. Not like V. She had skin in the game, and now it’s Johnny’s.</p><p>V’s phone rumbles again, an 8-bit <em> Never Fade Away </em> ringtone. Johnny ignores it. Doesn’t matter if it’s Misty, Vik, or even Panam. They aren’t important people to him, so he doesn’t care.</p><p><em> You’re good at lying to yourself, </em> V would probably say. <em> You say you don’t care, but I can see it. Can feel it, too. We’re connected, remember? What we have is a two-way street, Johnny. You’re not as tough as you think you are. </em></p><p>Without thinking, Johnny grabs the phone. <em> Panam Palmer. </em></p><p>He answers.</p><p>“V!? Jesus <em> fucking </em> Christ, I’ve been calling you, you know that?! Ever since you stormed out of camp I’ve been worried sick—”</p><p>“V’s gone.” Silence. “When she got shot in the head, he hit the biochip. That short-circuited her brain, rebooted everythin’ even after she was long gone. Didn’t come without a cost. It started to rewrite everything in V’s head to think that the body belonged to me. To her system, V was a virus, malware, a tumor that needed cleansed. I was the <em> rightful </em> owner. She was tryin’ to get me out of her head, tryin’ to find a cure. Too little too late for that, now.” His voice cracks and he hates it, but there’s too much pressure, too much weight in the words that he’s saying, more to convince himself than Panam. “She’s dead for good this time. Nothin’ left of her other than this empty fuckin’ husk that I’m controllin’.”</p><p>Panam is dead quiet. Reception isn’t picking up anything from her end, and Johnny thinks that she’d ended the call. Then, “I don’t understand.”</p><p>“‘S not your problem to understand. Not anymore. V… she cared about you. Lots. Loved you ‘bout as much as she loved Jackie, maybe more. And in a different way. Wanted to join the Aldecaldos once all this shit was in the past, but I ain’t she. There’s nothin’ you can do for her, and there’s nothin’ you can do for me.” He thinks of ending the call right then and there, but there’s a sour taste in the back of his throat, and V’s in his head, arms crossed and lips pursed.</p><p>
  <em> Be nice to her, Johnny. That’s the least you can do, for me. </em>
</p><p>“Don’t let V be forgotten. Cherish the memories you had with her, Panam. You’ll meet her again, I’m sure.”</p><p>“W-Wait—”</p><p>No waiting, Johnny thinks as he pulls the phone away, ends the call. Nothing left to say, not while his throat’s burning and his eyes are watering again. It’s better this way, isn’t it? Cutting ties, trying to distance himself from the people that care about V. Especially Panam.</p><p>She was V’s anchor, her guiding light. If V’d managed to get to the end, she probably would have leaned on Panam for help. Or maybe she would’ve gone solo, not wanting to risk the life of the woman she loves for a plan that might’ve not worked.</p><p>Could’ve died while trying to get to Mikoshi. Always had the possibility of dying before anything got finished. Can’t even bury her. Can’t even…</p><p>The junkyard. </p><hr/><p>“There’s nothing here.”</p><p>V smiles at Johnny, which speaks sympathy she won’t ever acknowledge aloud, but Johnny hears it. He always does. “Were you expecting a headstone? A statue, maybe?” She says it in jest but her voice is devoid of venom, the question is genuine, not meant to hit Johnny while he’s down.</p><p>It still does, in a way. “Dunno,” he whispers, “Expected a marker, or somethin’.”</p><p>“Or somethin’,” V parrots, looks around the junkyard. The smell is terrible,  but she isn’t going to complain. Rarely complains, because she doesn’t waste time wallowing in negativity. Johnny’s polar opposite. She leans down and grabs a rock, tosses it up in the air and catches it. “We’ll figure something out, then.”</p><p>She carves something into the scrap metal she’s sitting on. It hurts her ears but she keeps going, keeps etching a memory only important to the two of them. Maybe others will come to this junkyard, and perhaps they’ll see the faded scratches, and they’ll mean nothing to them. But to Johnny, they mean something.</p><p>Everything.</p><p>“If this was my real grave, what would you write?” Johnny asks without thinking, not like he really ever does think before he opens his mouth. “'Here lies Johnny Silverhand…'”</p><p>V chuckles, tilts her head as she finishes writing. “You would give me the privilege of making your tombstone? I’m honored,” she says, and the moonlight glimmers against the metal just so. It highlights her hair in a soft glow, glimmers against her piercings, makes her look ethereal. “But I suppose it would have to be, ‘Here lies Johnny Silverhand, Night City Legend,’ right? Domestic terrorism aside, Arasaka’s just one big piece of shit, just like the rest. I feel like a lot of people would follow in your footsteps if they could.”</p><p>“They don’t have the balls to pull off the same shit I did,” Johnny scoffs and crosses his arms. Tries not to think about how content V looks, talking to the man who’s the reason why she’s dying so much faster than she should. “But what does it really mean?”</p><p>“Hm?” V doesn’t look up even as Johnny stands, paces a few feet away. She’s smiling so softly and Johnny wishes he could freeze this moment, where V isn’t hurting, isn’t in pain, and she’s at peace. Maybe not because of Johnny, but because what she’s doing is good. Because it matters, and Johnny loves her for it.</p><p>“What did I achieve, shoutin’ ‘Chippin’ In’ to a bunch of angry, pimply kids?” Johnny asks, more to himself than V, but is there really a difference between them when they’re together like this? Perhaps, yes. But they share a mind. V knows what Johnny knows, and Johnny knows what V knows. Mutual, beneficial, but a curse.</p><p>V brushes off some stray dust, tries to scratch off some gunk on the metal. “You gave those kids hope, didn’t you? Made them believe that the suits couldn’t buy everything.”</p><p>Johnny wishes that’s what he’d thought back then. “I remember what I thought on stage. That even if they all died for their ideals, it’d be worth it. But when I look at you…” He trails off because V finally looks up, gray eyes almost white in the moonlight, and she looks real, she is real, they’re real and this is <em> real. </em> Johnny falters, almost convinces himself that it would be okay to admit his true feelings, confess in an a church empty if not for one goddess and a man sentenced to eternal damnation. V is an angel, and Johnny is a sinner, but she forgives. </p><p>She always forgives.</p><p>“I fucked up a lotta things, V.” A different confession, but a dirty one all the same. “Either let down or used every lost person who gave me their trust. Blind, selfish bastard that I was. But I’ve managed one thing, for now. Not to fuck this up. What we have.”</p><p>And V smiles, she smiles and something warms in Johnny, and that hurts him more. “It’s been a long, bumpy road, hasn’t it? But we're here, and that's all that matters, I think.” She watches as Johnny glitches, sits down with enough space between the two of them. Maybe she knows what it means, but she doesn’t say a word. Her kindness is an infinite well, and Johnny wishes she was like everyone else in Night City: Manipulative, cruel, full of hatred. </p><p>He wishes she was more like him.</p><p>“Most people I thought were my friends, they couldn’t even stand to be in the same room with me. You don’t even have a choice— closest to me by a long shot, there twenty-four-fuckin’-seven.” He grabs a cigarette, lights it. Doesn’t taste a damn thing but that’s okay. “And yet… you don’t seem to hate my living guts.”</p><p>V laughs, throws her head back slightly. Johnny doesn’t understand, not exactly, but he knows the laughter is genuine, so he doesn’t mind. Doesn’t care if V is laughing at him, because the least she deserves is happiness. “Johnny.” He glances at her, smiling so bright, “How could I ever hate you?”</p><hr/><p>Unsure that V’s car has enough gas to take him there, but he’ll fucking walk if he has to. If he does one thing for V, it’s this. <em> Couldn’t get her body back in time, </em> he shoves himself up, the world spins but he keeps moving. <em> Couldn’t tell her about how much I cared for her, </em> he gets into the driver seat, starts the car, thanks V for always using a nomad vehicle, if only because she loved Panam, loved visiting her.</p><p><em> Couldn’t tell her that I love her, but I’m pretty sure she knew. </em> The sympathy, always sympathy when she looked at Johnny. Not sadness, rarely sadness if ever, but she wasn’t perfect, maybe not to herself. Sometimes she lost herself to her demons, would get this far away look in her eyes and think of everything and nothing at all. </p><p>But now, she’d lost herself to the biggest demon of all. <em> Night City legend. If it meant never having to kill you, I would go back to my past self and shoot him right ‘tween the fuckin’ eyes. </em>He would still rebel against corporations. Still start the Rockerboy trend, crank it up to eleven, because fuck the corporations. But he'd never go to AHQ. Not if it meant never having V die like this.</p><p>V wouldn’t want him to change things for her, though. <em> If you did that, then we never would have met. I never would have been able to get you to realize how much of an asshole you were back then. You regret so much, but now you regret less. Isn’t that enough? </em></p><p>A selfless sacrifice, Johnny thinks as he starts the car and drives. Fifty years he was asleep in the biochip, and now he’d rather stay in it for another fifty more. Scary, but wish V’d destroyed it. Destroyed him. </p><p>Does he regret less, now that V is gone? She made an impact, but now that she’s dead, all that’s left is a gaping hole. A crater that used to be full of warm smiles and soft laughter, of sympathy and patience, of <em> V. </em> Because at the very core of her being, V was pure. Jackie helped with that, with the blinding positivity and the solid foundations built on her beliefs, her principles. Unwavering and <em> good, </em> though it’s a loose word in Night City.</p><p>But she was good. To Johnny, she was perfect. A greater legend than he would ever be. Someone who deserved to live and die after fulfilling all their dreams. But rarely is anyone given the chance in a place as forgiving as this.</p><p>The drive is long but it only feels like a few minutes. It was dark when he first started driving, but now the sun is peeking over the horizon. Can’t go anywhere after this. Won’t go anywhere, either. The junkyard’s the same but different at the same time, but there’s a sick sort of relief when Johnny sees that the scrap metal is there, unmoved. Untouched.</p><p>He sits down right where V had, runs his fingers over the marker she’d made. Rough and angular, but he loves it all the same. Loves her, always will. <em> Always. </em></p><p>Finds the rock she used and grabs it, tries to think about what he’ll write. Not too long, not too short. Something that envelops the fiber of V’s being, who she was while she was still alive. Morbid, but this is a sad attempt at closure. At acceptance, because Johnny wants to live like V would, respect her and how she lived. No moping around, but he’s already done a few days of that. No negativity, but that’s just a part of his charm.</p><p>“‘Here lies V,” he murmurs, tapping the rock against the metal. “Here lies V.” Empty, nothing coming to mind. He wrote songs and now he can’t even think of a simple line for his dead best friend?</p><p><em> She was bigger than Night City. Better than all of it. Deserved the world but the world didn’t want her back. Goddamnit, V. </em>He sighs, runs a hand down his face because this all hurts too much. </p><p>Alt had told him that he was different than a lot of the other Rockerboys in Night City. Maybe, deep down, she was right. Surface level asshole with the capability of change. She saw that, saw that he <em> could </em> change for the better, that he could be a better person, could strive to improve himself. But back then, fifty years ago, he had eyes for Arasaka. Eyes burning like hellfire, longing for destruction, a different kind of change.</p><p>She wanted what was best for Johnny, but he didn’t think the same. Her best was his worst, so they argued. Could’ve easily been solved if only Johnny hadn’t been such a self-centered bastard. Too late. Too late, always too late to realize these things.</p><p>How many people did he love without ever realizing it? Alt, Rogue, Kerry? How many times did he push away those feelings, when he could’ve just as easily pulled them in and be happy? If he’d never lived in V’s head, this never would’ve happened. <em> Do I regret less? </em></p><p>Maybe. Just a sliver from the mountain of “If only”s. </p><p>
  <em> Here lies V, the best goddamn thing to come out of Night City.  </em>
</p><p>That’s good enough. Not perfect, but he’s far from it. Always has been, but he didn’t like that truth. Doesn’t like many of them because they hurt, but sometimes that sort of pain is needed. Shocks him into thinking more about how he used to be. Shocks him into changing. </p><p>He carves, wonders how V made this look so easy. He messes up a letter, curses and scratches over it. Far from perfect, his mind says again. If Johnny tries hard enough, he can hear V’s laughter, light and beautiful. <em> It’s okay, Johnny. Thank you. </em></p><p>“No. Thank you,” he replies to no one but himself, no one but a figment of the woman who taught him how to love. Johnny’s crying again but he doesn’t try to stop the tears, didn’t even realize they were there until it gets too blurry to write. He grieves because it’s okay to grieve, no one is watching him sob. It’s loud and unruly and <em> ugly, </em> but sometimes the world needs to hear ugly.</p><p><span>Johnny curls into the sheet of metal, places his forehead on V’s writing and </span><em><span>weeps,</span></em><span> and maybe he’s grieving for more than just V.</span> Maybe he thinks about everything he’s lost in that moment, everything he’s bottled up exploding and hurting him, so he screams. He breaks down because V’s absence shattered him into pieces.</p><p><em> How am I supposed to go on without her? </em> It’s a question to no one, to Alt, maybe, because she might know. Not the cyberspace Alt, but the one who loved him, tried to love him but got hurt. He slams a fist into the metal and it shakes, clangs against his ears and vibrates. <em> How am I supposed to live without her? </em></p><p>Grief. What an ugly thing, but he’s come to know it quite well. It’s familiar, now, as his cries die down into sniffles and wet coughs, snot and tears and saliva wet on his face. His head hurts and his stomach churns— he hasn’t eaten anything since yesterday. </p><p>He stays there, though. Stays and thinks about V, because this is their place. He’s a dead man living in a dead woman’s body, and they’re both dead in this junkyard.</p><p>The sun is setting when Johnny finally convinces himself to move. It hurts, but he has to. He’d leave one way or another, and he’s not going to let himself die without helping Alt. It’s what V would want, and maybe he wants it too. </p><p>One last time, he turns and looks at the scrap metal, dented and rusted with time. Maybe their etchings will disappear under the rubble, or maybe they’ll last through however long this dying planet has left. The memory is carved into Johnny’s brain just as it is into the metal, and that’s perfect with him.</p><p>“Been good to know ya, V. 'til we meet again.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Right, so this took a turn I never would've expected. I'm not one for the Johnny Silverhand/V romance because it's not my thing, but it felt so natural for this piece that I added it in. It's unrequited because Panam Palmer has a special place in my heart, but I do really love Johnny's character. At first I was iffy because, y'know, terrorist shit, but he really did seem to have a change of heart during my playthrough, and I wanted to respect that in my writing.<br/>And I know there's an obvious change in how he feels about Alt in this chapter, but I felt like I wasn't giving her enough credit, either. So I added a few things in about their relationship, along with a few words about Kerry and Rogue, but I don't feel comfortable enough fleshing out either of those relationships because I don't think I would be good at writing either of them realistically.<br/>Finally, I hope this gives at least a little semblance of closure. I really did enjoy writing this which is why I was able to get it finished so quickly, so I'll be happy if you enjoyed it, too! Thank you for reading, and until next time!</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Writing this made my heart hurt, but thank you for reading! I love Cyberpunk 2077 with my whole heart which is why I write these fics, so I hope you love reading them as much as I enjoy writing them, even if they're mega angsty like this one. Until next time!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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